


A Change Would Do You Good

by macabrekawaii



Category: Loki: Agent of Asgard, Marvel (Comics), Young Avengers (Comics)
Genre: Age Difference, Anal, Blowjobs, Dirty Talk, Genderfluid Loki, M/M, Praise Kink, not the age difference tony thinks it is lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:27:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27597533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macabrekawaii/pseuds/macabrekawaii
Summary: All-new all-hot-and-nubile Loki slips away during one of Tony Stark's parties in Avenger's Tower only to be caught red-handed stealing a quick, expensive drink from Tony's private stash. Sexy hijinks ensue.--Takes place sometime during Agent of Asgard, before #5, though the story contains very minimal spoilers for anything past Agent of Asgard #1.
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Comments: 14
Kudos: 121





	A Change Would Do You Good

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a retooling of an older fic I had up from a some years ago. I write differently now and wanted to give a little extra love to a favorite, and incorporate some different elements. So this may be familiar to some, new to others. Either way it's got several pages of shiny new words and some spicy edits. Thank you MFLuder for the beta!

“Petty theft, huh?” Tony Stark muses aloud to the dark, seemingly empty room as he enters his penthouse suite in Avengers Tower. He waives his hand and J.A.R.V.I.S. raises the lights to a dim flicker around the room, casting a soft glow. Still, Tony seems to be alone. He speaks to no one in particular. “I’d have pegged you more for a grand theft auto kinda brat but I mean, new you right?”

The sound of ice clinking in a glass seems to fade in, like a stereo’s volume being slowly turned up. Loki steps forward, grin first like a Cheshire Cat, out from the liminal space of nothingness. He leans back against the bar at the center of the room. Tony’s still struck by this all-new Loki, having only just gotten used to the little kid scampering around at Thor’s heels. The young man before him looks lithe and lethal, sipping at his stolen drink with poise and purpose.

“How’d you find me, Stark?” He takes a sip and smirks, unaffected by having been caught up in the playboy billionaire’s private rooms. His voice is deeper than Tony would have assumed, a rumbling bass that rolls past his lips like silk. They haven’t interacted since Loki has assumed this new form. Loki is in the strange coat he always wears now, the white fur of the collar contrasting where his jet-black hair brushes his shoulders. Beneath it, he’s wearing black skinny jeans and a black dress shirt, the buttons open low, exposing a bit of a pale collarbone. It’s a sleeker look than Tony is used to from Asgardians, who usually seem to have missed their bus to the Renn Faire.

“Couldn’t find you down in the party; had J.A.R.V.I.S. sweep the building.” Tony steps further into the room, not quite encroaching on where the god was resting.

“I’m wearing three separate invisibility items, only two of which are magic, and your computer was able to find me?” Loki raises a dark brow, placing his drink down on the bar top. He does not let go of the glass right away, instead he draws a well-manicured finger around the damp rim, creating a low hum.

“And what, you think your toys somehow stop me from knowing what’s going on in my own home?”

Loki snorts at Tony’s words. Tony moves towards him, rests an elbow on the bar, turning to the other man. He reaches for the drink as Loki’s inky-polished nails tap the sides of the glass. His fingers are long and slender and Tony can’t help but notice, his eyes drawn to their action against the glass. Loki sets it down on the bar, as if testing Tony. He lets a finger dip into the amber liquid before drawing it up to his lips.  
  
Tony watches, swallows thickly. 

“All the greatest magicians in Svartalfheim could not find me when I first stole my coat, what makes you able, Stark?” Loki picks up the glass and takes another sip, eyeing the other man warily, holding the glass out of reach.

“Such little faith I see. Decided for yourself that our puny technology can’t beat your fancy magics.”

“You’re lying,” Loki says with something like pride. He smiles wide and bares his teeth. It makes Tony think of a fox: something feral, something animal, something quick to bite. Loki places his drink on the bar again and runs those perfectly manicured fingers through his hair, jet-black and shiny like an oil slick. “I can appreciate that.”

“If we’re being honest, it wasn’t J.A.R.V.I.S. that found you,” Tony finally takes the glass, sips at the drink and smiles. “Ooh, you took the good stuff, eh? I was right. Spoiled brat.”

“So how did you find me, Stark?” Loki punctuates Tony’s name with a hard exhale and moves to reclaim the tumbler of alcohol. Their fingers brush against each other in the exchange, and for a moment they’re both silent.

“I keep the good stuff up here. You may be a newer model of Loki, but you’re a rich spoiled princess at heart.”

Loki’s smile curls at the word _princess_ and Tony doesn’t think he’s imagining the way his eyes go a little wide.

“Heh.” Loki smirks again, looking for all the world like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “If you’re so rich why did you stock the party with low-grade Midgardian ales and liquors?”

“Have you met your brother? He can drink forty beers. _In a row_. But you didn’t come up here just for the drink, did you?” Tony’s voice is low, and he can see Loki shift his eyes.

“It was very…. crowded… downstairs.” Loki reaches for the glass again. There’s only a finger’s worth of shimmering amber liquid left.

“Then why not leave?” Tony holds the drink just out of reach and brings it to his lips once more. The musky spill of scotch coats his tongue, hangs thickly in his throat, and spreads down to his belly with a pulse-like flame. Something coils within Tony, something with heat, and not altogether unwanted.

“Maybe I wasn’t ready to go just yet.” Loki says, looking down at his fingernails as if bored. He looks up at Tony through his lashes, lets his startling green eyes linger obviously over the other man’s form.

“Hoping to be caught?”

“Maybe.”

“Thinking maybe big brother would come looking?” Tony leans closer to Loki, trying to read his features. Trying to get a read on what was really happening.

“Hah! Thor, leave a revel? He’d sooner trade his goats in for one of your Midgardian sportscars.”

“I don’t know about that, I could see him in something fast, like a Bugatti. Think he’d want one of those? His birthday is coming up. Or at least, that’s what his Wikipedia says.”

“Pfft, Thor doesn’t know what he wants.” Loki takes a slow sip of his purloined drink, lets the velvety taste coat his lips, leaving them moist. He looks up at Tony between his lashes again and for it, Tony inhales sharply. Loki’s eyes are dark, a shadowy galaxy of emerald.

“And what does _Loki_ want?” Tony asks slowly, a drawl really. He feels bold, closes their distance and raises his hand. Tony lets his thumb sweep across the outer corner of Loki’s lips, brushing a droplet of alcohol away. Loki slips a pink tongue out and swipes at the pad of Tony’s finger. It’s surprisingly cool against his skin. “I think I have some idea of what Loki wants.”

Tony’s voice is thick with lust. He licks his own lips and looks the lanky god up and down. He takes the glass one last time, draining it. Tony exhales, moving his thumb towards the center of the plush lips beneath his calloused thumb, as Loki draws it into his mouth with a swirl of his tongue. A shiver runs down Tony’s spine and he moves his hand to cup Loki’s cheek, his thumb still tracing the edge of the god’s lips. Loki makes a soft noise, like a mewl, and Tony throws the glass somewhere behind the bar. Loki tilts his head up to meet Tony’s lips in a kiss. Neither man acknowledges the shattering sound as the glass hits ground somewhere away from them, both too focused on the crush of their lips. Loki pushes his tongue past Tony’s lips almost immediately, lapping into his mouth, making Tony groan with desire. Tony winds his fingers in Loki’s hair, yanking the younger man’s head back. Loki sighs into the sharp pain and rolls his hips against Tony’s. He can feel Loki’s erection through his impossibly tight jeans. Something in the back of Tony’s mind triggers a fight or flight, makes the tension seated low in his body rise up, rabbit anxiously in his chest. Tony shoves Loki off and staggers a few steps back.

“W-why are we stopping?” Loki is breathless, laughing through his words. His porcelain skin is flushed even more pale, with heated, pink cheeks. He looks beautiful. He takes a step towards Tony and for it, Tony inhales sharply.

“Because your brother is probably still downstairs and is a god with a big hammer that can smash my head like a bad Gallagher bit?”

“You’re concerned about Thor? Thor will hardly notice either of us are gone, there are far too many mortals present to hear his tales of by-gone glory, and even if he does, he’s never concerned himself with who someone chooses to bed.” Loki moves back over to Tony and kisses hesitantly at his neck. When he isn’t pushed away again, he begins to kiss and suck at the stubbled skin. “Even me.” Loki mouths against Tony’s throat.

Alright. So Loki’s determined. That’s nice. But this wasn’t really what had Tony so concerned.

“Hhhhhhh… how old are you? Weren’t you twelve like a year ago? Are you even legal?”

“I’m not twelve now, Stark.” Loki licks up Tony’s jaw, his icy-cool tongue trailing back towards his lips. “And hardly anything I do these days is legal anyway. But for all intents and purposes, I’m probably twenty by your Midgardian standards. Twenty-one if a bartender asks.”

“Then I’m old enough to be your father.”

“Hardly.” Loki says curiously, laughing under his breath to a joke of only his knowing. “But you could be my Daddy if you like, Stark.”

Tony is a man known for rash decisions and a devil-may-care attitude and Lord help him, he is not going to break that reputation this day. He grabs Loki by the hips and pulls them together, pushing Loki back against the bar. He leans over Loki and pushes his long coat off his shoulders. Tony silently thanks whatever gods control fashion in Asgard for Loki adopting Earth styles more easily than his _“What do you mean I can’t wear full armor to the mall?”_ brother. He reaches up beneath Loki’s shirt and runs his nails down over his wiry abs before reaching back and scratching harder, from shoulder blades to belt line. Loki all but melts beneath him.

“Figured you’d like that.” Tony says with satisfaction. Loki’s response is to drop to his knees and start fussing at the other man’s belt. “Woah, playing fast, are we?”

Loki opens his mouth like he’s going to say something, but instead undoes Tony’s trousers and draws out his cock, half-hard already. Tony’s eyes sink closed as Loki’s too-cold breath ghosts over the head. He curses beneath his breath. A cool lick up the shaft and Tony is as hard as he’s ever felt in his life, droplets of precum already beading at the tip after only a few more strokes. Loki takes Tony into his mouth in one quick movement, his slender hand wrapped around the base, skin pale against the ruddy flush of Tony’s length.

“Je-sus Christ.” Tony exhales slowly.

“Not one of my pantheon.” Loki mumbles, mouth full of cock. His lips are slick with spit, beads of precum dribbling from Tony’s prick against his face as he speaks. Loki bobs his head, takes Tony down his throat in a move that’s practically obscene. Loki looks obscene, legs splayed around him on the ground, one hand gripping himself through his jeans. Tony mentally pleads for Loki to look up at him, so he can see those green eyes, but almost as if he knows it’s what’s wanted, Loki remains face forward, eyes shut, lost in his actions. Loki pushes forward, taking in all of Tony’s length. His nose presses against the other man’s thatch of dark hair. Tony can feel that icy breath again—so cold, too cold, what’s up with that, he thinks—hitting his warm skin dripping with sweat.

“Baby, you look so good on your knees,” Tony babbles, lost to the way he can fuck Loki’s throat with no resistance, “taking me so good, you are perfect, princess.”

Tony hears a whine from below him, feels Loki’s throat tense for a moment.

“You like that, princess? You like being my pretty babydoll on her knees for me?” Tony brushes a hand through Loki’s hair before grabbing a handful of the soft strands. “You’re certainly good at this.”

Tony’s rewarded with Loki tilting his head lower, letting him truly and thoroughly fuck his throat. Loki’s hands move to the back of Tony’s thighs and for a moment, Tony wonders if Asgardians even have a gag reflex. Or if it’s just a Loki thing.  
  
“Just like that—so fucking good baby. You’re so good for me.” Tony lets the mindless praise spill from his lips as he fists his hand in Loki’s hair and for it, Loki writhes, grinds his own palm against the visible bulge in his tight black jeans. Tony groans and fucks Loki’s throat

Tears streak Loki’s cheeks and for a moment Tony thinks to ask if the kid’s alright, if he’s taking too much. But this is Loki, God of Mischief, supreme Trickster, and however young this incarnation must be he’s clearly learned a trick or two. Tony gasps for air, feeling like his lungs are being sucked out through his dick. Loki is good, almost too good. After what feels like ages, like time had stopped, Loki releases Tony from his mouth with a wet pop. He gives Tony’s hand one last long, wet stroke, collecting a spurt of precome over his fingers.

Loki, for his part, looks wrecked, like he’s already been fucked. His eyes—now that Tony can finally see them, are pitch black, with only the thinnest ring of green. Loki looks even paler than usual, contrasted by a dark, lustful blush in his cheeks. Tony’s hazy mind snaps to images of fresh snow marred by drops of blood. He shakes the strange vision from his mind, as Loki reaches to lick Tony’s wetness off his own hand as if he could not get enough of Tony’s taste.

Tony growls as he grabs Loki, hauls him up into a kiss. Tony steps out of his clothes, puddled at his ankles, and divests himself of his shirt. His cock is rock hard, and curves upward, glistening with Loki’s saliva. He yanks Loki’s shirt off and is taken aback for a moment at just how toned the godling is, how much sturdier he looks disrobed. Loki takes the initiative and undoes his own jeans, and Tony finds himself thankful at not being responsible for getting the so-tight-they-look-painted-on black denim off the youth. Loki is, of course, not wearing anything beneath. Tony lets his gaze fall to Loki’s newly undressed form. Loki looks like perfection itself. Like he has been chiseled from fine marble. Like he’s one overpriced pair of boxers away from a billboard ad, all youthful sinew and dewy skin. Tony lets his gaze sink lower. He smirks.

“I honestly thought you’d be bigger, being a god and all.” Tony jeers, bolstering himself, and reaches for Loki’s admittedly aesthetically pleasing, though smaller than his own, member.

“Ah, but if there’s one thing to learn of Asgard, Stark, it’s not the size of the hammer,” Loki presses his body against Tony’s, forcing their cocks together, and rolls his hips in a tight circle, sending a jolt up Tony from the sudden friction, “it’s how you use it.”

“Now that feels like a dig at someone, I can’t imagine whom.” Tony bites Loki on the neck, eliciting a high keening noise from the younger man. In response, Loki rakes his sharp nails down Tony’s sides. The burn is good and Tony arches into it. Loki makes a pleased hum.

“Besides,” Loki grins, feral and sharp, “gods have many and varying talents.” Loki laves his tongue up Tony’s neck, then bites down to suckle the flesh below his chin, for certain hard enough to leave a mark. Tony hisses in response, and goes to protest, but before he can formulate the thought, he is being picked up. Loki lifts Tony off the ground, his mouth never leaving the other man’s as he holds him. Tony is no small man, and on looks, presumed he has quite a few pounds on Loki. Still, Loki hoists him up as if he is no more than a doll, expending, as far as Tony can tell, no effort. Loki continues to kiss Tony, his tongue probing the insides of his mouth. Loki pulls Tony’s legs to wrap around his waist and holds Tony beneath his firm ass.

Tony is suddenly very, very aware that Loki could probably kill him fifty different ways before he could ever hope to summon his Armor to him. Tony is also, suddenly, very, very aware that he has never been more turned on in his life.

Loki’s voice is rough and quiet in Tony’s ear. “Which way is your bedchamber, Stark?”

“Over – It’s over there,” he tilts his head towards the door to his bedroom, still in disbelief of the turn of events. Loki sucks at his neck again, drawing the skin against his teeth, worrying at it, leaving a mark Tony knows will last for days. Before he even registers that they are moving, Loki has made it to his room, still with Loki’s silver tongue lapping at his throat. Tony makes a low noise as Loki releases him, dropping him onto the mattress.

Loki whistles, taking in Tony’s extravagant king-sized bed, “You sure are a showoff.”

“And I suppose you’re nothing but humble, princess. Bet you can’t wait to have a throne room. Servants at your beck and call. You seem to like luxury enough.”

“Again, confusing me for my brother, Stark. I am heir to no kingdoms.”

“Just a brat with expensive tastes then?”

“You could say that.” Loki coos, and climbs over Tony on the bed, straddling his hips. His erection presses against Tony’s and the older man exhales slowly. Loki reaches down and begins to loosely stroke both his and Tony’s lengths. “I’m rutting with a billionaire playboy aren’t I?”

“Philanthropist.” Tony hisses out, straining his hips up to meet Loki’s too-gentle ministrations.

“What was that?” Loki twists his hand, sending a crack of fire to Tony’s core.

“Billionaire playboy philanthropist.” Tony corrects him and slides out from underneath.

“My apologies, Stark. How rude of me to forget the kindness you show those in need.” Loki rolls onto his back, throwing himself down onto Tony’s fine feather pillows. “I’m quite needy myself, you know.”

“I am sure I can endeavor to cater to your needs, fair maiden.” Tony bends forward and catches Loki’s mouth once more, plunging hungry and deep. Loki spreads his legs around him, pulling Tony forwards so that his erection rubs against the cleft of his ass.

“Stark…. I…” Loki flutters his eyes and rocks his hips up, drawing Tony’s hardness against his entrance.

Tony grins, and reaches beside the bed, grasping two items from the drawer in the nightstand. He says nothing then but leans in to lick a stripe across Loki’s chest, breath warm and moist against one of Loki’s nipples. Tony sucks the bud into his mouth, gently runs his teeth across it, distracting Loki from the sound of tearing and a bottle cap being popped. Tony leans back and Loki whines at the loss of contact. Before Loki can protest, Tony slides a lube-slicked finger into the god’s body. Loki gasps and licks his lips, pushing back against the probing digit. Tony slides in another, scissoring them, stretching Loki in preparation for what’s to come. Loki says nothing, bites his bottom lip. Tony savors the silence and slides in a third finger.

“I’m rather ready for you.” Loki’s voice is honey and silk and it runs through Tony’s mind as smooth as the drink the brat had stolen earlier. “So please, get on with it.”

“Asking please? Gosh, you must really want this.” Tony withdraws his fingers and rubs his cock against Loki’s wet entrance. “Ask me again.” The blunt, smooth tip of Tony’s condom-wrapped dick slides teasingly against Loki’s hole, dipping in ever so slightly, enough to be pressing but not breaching.

“Please fuck me, Stark.” Loki locks eyes with Tony as he speaks, shamelessly, “Fuck me. I want it. Fuck me.” Tony pushes Loki down so that his legs are wrapped around his waist, and Tony presses into his tightness, reeling at the sudden feeling of his dick surrounded by unexpected warmth. Tony doesn’t move, not yet, he savors the feeling, savors the moment. “I said fuck me, not enjoy the view.” Loki’s complaint snaps him from his revelry and Tony begins to fuck Loki in earnest, sliding his length partway inside to fuck in quick, shallow thrusts.

“Fuck.” Tony gasps and thrusts in deeper, burying his length inside the lithe body beneath him.

“Harder.” Loki demands, trying with all his strength to pull Tony deeper inside of him, throwing off Tony’s rhythm.

“I’ll get there.” Tony thrusts deeper, faster, sweat beading on his forehead. Loki goes quiet again, pressed into the mattress by Tony’s body and his quick thrusts.

“Hnngh, choke me,” Loki pulls Tony’s wrist toward his neck and all but sighs as the other man takes hold of his throat with a firm squeeze.

“Kid, you are fifty shades of fucked up, aren’t you?”

Loki’s answer comes in a high pitched mewl as he cants his hips upwards, rocking Tony deeper inside him.

Tony withdraws for a moment, just long enough for Loki to whine at the loss of being filled, but Tony flips Loki onto his stomach. The young god scrambles onto his hands and knees and keens as Tony plunges himself back into Loki’s body with almost no warning. Loki’s face is pressed against the mattress as Tony lurches forward.

Tony thrusts his hips as hard as he can, pistoning fast into the god’s lissome frame. He can feel his release approaching, the sweet burn of it clenched in his balls as they hit the back of Loki’s thighs with a meaty slap. His hands dig into Loki’s hips, nails leaving crescent moon blotches that mottle the pale skin. Tony hitches a breath and shudders, so close, so goddamn close. He feels like he can see stars, or more than stars, galaxies and rainbows.

Loki laughs and looks back at Tony, giving a wink. His cool green eyes seem to flicker with mischief. He makes a quick gesture with his hand and a green haze envelops Tony at the base of his shaft.

A jolt goes through Tony and he stiffens. “Woah, woah, what’s with the hand waggles, what’d you just do?” Tony withdraws with a huff and flops down next to Loki, his orgasm wrenched away from him, with a new heat coiled in his belly. Release seems miles way, out of reach, though his arousal is as intense as ever. “What shenanigans are you pulling, Malfoy?”

“I appreciate you recognizing my house, Stark.” Loki smirks and straddles Tony. He rakes his nails down Tony’s chest and slides himself down on his still-hard cock, watching the way Tony licks his lips as he sees more and more of his length disappear. “It’s just a little insurance that you won’t get off before I do.”

“A magic cock ring? Really?” Tony groans. “I’m a gentleman, I’d never have gotten my rocks off first.”

“You were literally about to come.” Loki takes all of Tony into him and rolls his hips as he speaks, his voice unwavering despite his efforts practically leaving Tony drooling.

“No, I wasn’t”

“You were just about to fill my twink ass with your hot old man jizz.”

“Okay enough PornHub chit chat, fucking move it, princess.”

Loki circles his hips wider as he raises and lowers himself down onto Tony, quickening the pace with each movement downward. Tony chokes back a loud moan but is unable to keep it down. Loki smiles and moves faster, impossibly fast for how heavy and solid he feels across Tony’s lap. Loki furrows his brow and wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead, as if he is using the utmost concentration to move.

“Please,” Loki brings his face down to meet Tony’s, his breath gliding across the Avenger’s well-groomed beard. “Please, Stark, choke me again.” His voice stutters on the word choke, so the end comes out like a ragged gasp. Loki is pushing himself up and down on Tony’s dick, barely letting the other man move at all. Even if Tony had wanted to set his own pace, Loki was simply too heavy, unbelievably heavy for such a svelte frame. Tony grips Loki’s sharp hips, his hands nearly engulfing them entirely. Tony is no sun worshipper himself, but his hands are a deep contrast splayed across near-white, snowy skin, several shades lighter than even his own. Panting, grinding his hips with seemingly intense concentration, Loki is glowing, an iridescence playing across his lean body. Were Tony not pinned beneath his very own sex god, he would swear he is hallucinating. Loki slows down his ministrations just a bit, pausing to lave his tongue across Tony’s cheek. “Please,” Loki exhales slowly, so slowly, and makes a whining noise in his throat, like he needs to be choked, or else he can’t go on. Tony obliges and reaches up, squeezing again around Loki’s throat. The pace of Loki’s movement up and down his shaft quickens, and Loki gulps, straining to breathe around the tight grasp on his neck. Tony thinks for a moment he should let go but thinks better of it. Loki would make him if he needs it. Loki could probably make him do a lot of things. A chill runs down Tony’s spine as his cock strains, craving release.

“Stark.” Loki pants Tony’s name, like a prayer, like a ritual, punctuating each roll of his hips with the hard consonants. “St-stark. Stark.”

“I’m right here, baby.” Tony presses his thumb hard against the hollow of Loki’s throat. “I’m right here princess. You gonna come for me? Gonna be a good girl, show me how beautiful you are?”

Loki brings one hand down to his cock and begins to stroke himself at a pace that seems near-punishing. Loki’s eyes sink shut and his back arches and he all but slams down onto Tony’s dick.

Tony feels like he is being choked himself, like all the wind has been knocked out of him with each decadent roll of Loki’s hips. He has one hand at Loki’s throat, the other now clenching the bedsheet, white knuckled, hard enough the satin might tear.

Loki comes with a shout that Tony feels reverberate through him like a crack of lightning, and something coiled within him loosens and gives way. Tony feels himself reach his own climax without warning. He lets go of Loki’s throat and both hands fly to his hips, dragging him up and down on his cock. He pulls back, sliding out of Loki’s warmth, the fluttering of his orgasm too much for him. He has presence of mind to grab the condom at the base, pull it inside out and toss if off beside the bed. Tony pumps his length once from root to tip and he is gone. Thick rivulets of come shoot forth and Tony is gasping, screaming, louder than he has ever allowed himself to be. Loki leans back, catching the majority of it on his chest and taught stomach. It’s a beautiful sight indeed. Tony tries to let the image sear into his hazy, sex-addled brain. He understands why so many oil paintings are of the gods.

Tony lets himself fall backwards, barely able to catch his breath. Loki crawls off the bed, and, completely unfazed, walks over to Tony’s bathroom. The door shuts, and Tony can hear running water. Loki emerges only a few moments later, looking, for all intents and purposes, as put together as he arrived, albeit gloriously nude. Meanwhile Tony is splayed out on the bed, still gasping from the sex. It could be age. But it was probably magic, he reassures himself. Loki slides into bed next to him.

“I trust that was… satisfactory for you, Stark?” Loki props himself up on his elbow, leaning in toward Tony, and traces lines through his sweat-soaked chest hair.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“You guess, huh?” Loki lets a sharp nail flick over one of Tony’s nipples. He shudders at the touch.

“I suppose, I could say it was alright.”

“Is that so?” Loki leans forward and sucks the taught pink of Tony’s nipple into his mouth, his cool tongue—and shit Tony’s really gotta ask about that—circles the sensitive skin. Tony’s dick gives a half-hearted twitch, clearly still tuckered out.

Tony pulls Loki up into a kiss, and they make out, slowly and languidly, each tasting of sex.

“They’ll have noticed your absence by now.” Loki breaks the kiss and drops back down to the bed.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve slipped away with a beautiful something.”

“Somehow I doubt I’m your usual quarry, Stark.” Loki runs his hands through Tony’s hair, still damp with sweat. His nails scratch against his scalp and Tony feels something stir inside him, something not altogether unpleasant.

“A change of pace can be good from time to time.”

“I am nothing if not change.” Loki says, more to himself, than to Tony. Loki stands, reaching his arms above his head and arches his back like a cat, yawning with his mouth open. “This was most enjoyable, Stark.”

Tony looks up at Loki from the bed. He is beautiful, and dangerous, Tony knows, but there is something there as well, something else, something intriguing and different from anyone he has ever had the pleasure to have.

“You could stay,” Tony says, sitting up on the bed. “You could spend the night here, and slip out in the morning, once the guests have gone. It’s late but there’s probably some stragglers still.”

“Oh, you old romantic.” Loki laughs, clear like shattering glass, like snowfall. “No, thank you. That is… not my way.”

“It could be. You are nothing if not change, as you said, Loki.”

Loki turns back towards Tony and stops his walk towards the bedroom door. At the sound of his name, he sits down on the edge of the bed, opposite the other man. “Tempting, Stark.”

Tony reaches forward and pulls Loki down against him, resting the younger man’s head against his chest. He cards his fingers through Loki’s soft, dark hair.

“A change could do you good.” Tony says, quietly, almost a question, but already Loki is settling down, draping a slender leg over his body. The god hums quietly, contentedly, in the back of his throat, almost a purr.

“We shall see how much good it does for you, Stark.”

Tony supposes he looks forward to finding out.

**Author's Note:**

> this is so self indulgent and I am not sorry


End file.
